


Slow Down (I Breathe Easier When You're Around)

by n00dl3Gal



Series: Gear Shift [1]
Category: Mega Man (Archie Comics), Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blues' sunglasses, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friendship, Gen, How Do I Tag, Making Friends, Post-Canon, Robots, Tempo's emotional trauma, Two robots discuss philosophy, canon spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n00dl3Gal/pseuds/n00dl3Gal
Summary: Tempo finds solace when Vesper Woman gets to be too much.She finds it in an unlikely source.





	Slow Down (I Breathe Easier When You're Around)

**Author's Note:**

> Blues and Tempo are important and are cute together, even just as friends. 
> 
> Thanks to Jinx/BizarreBlues for their help.

If Vesper Woman was programmed to annoy me into experiencing emotions, she was doing a phenomenal job. 

It’s not that I didn’t appreciate her company, or the effort Dr. LaLinde put into creating her. I was glad to have a sister, even if I did find her frustrating at times. But oh, that frustration was mounting. 

I frequently found myself taking refuge at one of the many abandoned buildings sites in the city. Vesper rarely followed; the lack of any flowers or insects disgusted her. At least, I believe it was disgust. I still wasn’t positive. 

So I sat, legs dangling over a block of concrete, listening to the dull throb of jackhammers a block over. It was the only sound until I heard a grunt behind me. 

Immediately, I jumped to my feet, activating my drills. “Who’s there?” 

There was no response at first, but then a quiet “...help…” reached my ears. 

I pushed aside the rubble and gasped a bit at the sight in front of me. “Blues,” I whispered, kneeling down to help him sit up. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I could ask… the same of… you,” he coughed. His helmet was cracked, and I knew instantly he had managed to get into a fight. There was some small comfort in realizing I wasn’t the only one who found him… abrasive. “I’m fine,” he said, pushing me away as he stretched his legs. 

I moved, but glared at him. “Why didn’t you listen to what Dr. LaLinde said? ‘If you must fight, put that shield to good use,’” I reminded him. 

While his eyes were covered by the visor, I knew he must be rolling his eyes. “I did,” he insisted. “Bastard got a lucky shot, so I teleported back here.” 

“So this is where you’ve been staying…” I mumbled. 

“Don’t tell a soul, robot or otherwise,” Blues threatened, weakly turning his hand into a blaster. 

I snorted. “I was merely thinking how funny it is that we both find refuge in the same place.” 

He pulled off his helmet, fingers running over the crack. “Huh. What’s your reason? That sister of yours finally make you… buzz off?” 

I didn’t dignify him with a response. I merely sighed and teleported back home, leaving him to deal with his pain. 

I believe I then experienced guilt. 

. . .

I returned the next day, climbing down to the lower floors. In one of the few intact rooms, I found what was- presumably- Blues’ home. 

It was… eclectic, to say the least. Souvenirs from his travels lined the walls, table, windowsill, even the bed. A charging cable ran from an outlet to the thin bed sheets. It was also a complete mess, but given the condition of the rest of the building, I wasn’t too shocked. 

I placed an E-Tank on the desk and scribbled a note before heading home. Hopefully, he would see. 

. . .

I returned three weeks later to find him already sitting on my favorite perch. He raised the empty E-Tank in salutation. I smiled, lightly. “Oh hey, you’re capable of smiling!”

“And you are capable of being polite,” I said, sitting across from him. “The world truly is full of wonder.” 

“Was that sarcasm?” Blues sounded almost sarcastic himself, but I had a feeling the question was genuine. 

“...I believe so. While my old personality has not yet returned, it appears my sense of humor is slowly being restored,” I explained. 

He nodded, throwing the can to the side. “You ever think it’ll come back completely?” 

I could sense the real question veiled underneath.  _ If I were to be fixed, would I be me afterwards?  _

“I… I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. I had no clue why I was being so honest with this renegade, but he was also the closest to the situation I had been in. I cared for Vesper, deeply, but she was far too overzealous in her actions, much of the time. Blues had a certain amount of restraint, at least on occasions. He also seemed to exhibit a much wider range of emotions than my sister could, but that could be due to her newness in being activated. 

“I don’t know,” I repeated, rubbing my shoulder. “With limited memories of what I was like before the cave-in, becoming the exact same as before is likely impossible. But I don’t believe it is a bad thing. I am me, just as the Tempo from before was me. We’re just versions of Tempo at different points in time. You are much the same way, Blues.” 

He scoffed. “I told you, I’m not-” 

“Exactly my point,” I interjected. “First you were Blues, then Break Man, now Proto Man. All the same robot, but at different phases.” 

He didn’t answer. He just kicked at a loose piece of rubble idly. “That’s… you didn’t tell Dr. LaLinde I’ve been staying here?” I shook my head. “Good. I’d hate to move again.” There was a flash of red, and he was gone. 

I left shortly thereafter, suddenly feeling like I could face Vesper again. 

. . .

Vesper started asking me who I was running off to see. 

I told her nobody, just me and my thoughts. 

It hurt to lie, but I made a promise. 

. . .

“Does the name ‘Bass’ mean anything to you?”

I took a sip from my E-Tank. “From your pronunciation, I assume you mean either a location or the musical instrument.”

“The latter,” Blues said, adjusting his scarf. “Pretty sure, at least. While I worked with Wily, I saw files on a project with that code name. Looked to be a new Robot Master of some kind.”

“I haven’t met any robots that go by the name, but I will keep alert,” I told him, tapping my chin. “If Wily was building him, then he is most likely a threat… if he even activated this ‘Bass.’”

“And what do you see me as?”

I blinked, somewhat… surprised at Blues’ comment. “I’m afraid I don’t completely understand.”

He shrugged. “Light built me, yes, but my core- that was Wily. And I worked with him. Willingly. Do you see me as a threat?”

I considered this for a moment. If Blues truly was a danger, I wouldn’t be meeting him in a secluded area alone. “I believe you are a threat to yourself,” I said quietly, rubbing my foot through the dust. “However, despite your previous actions, I have no reason to fear you hurting me or any others. If you did, I have no doubt I or another Robot Master would dispatch you with ease.” 

Blues winced. “Ouch, give me a little credit. I  _ do  _ know how to fight, probably more than you. You’re nothing more than a glorified excavator.”

“Excavators cause at least one death each year and countless other injuries,” I recited dully. 

“You’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, Tempo,” he said with a smirk. 

I threw my empty E-Tank at him and was satisfied when he flinched. 

. . . 

Vesper brought Splash Woman home one night. She wouldn’t stop smiling. 

She also asked me why I was smiling so much. I shrugged. I wasn’t sure myself. 

. . .

Blues eventually started meeting me in his room. “I’m not gonna bother cleaning up. Not that there’s anywhere to put my crap.”

I nodded and sat at the desk chair. He lowered himself onto the bed, sighing as he sprawled out. “I don’t mind. Dr. LaLinde has a bad habit of leaving her… crap out as well.”

“Wonder if that’s a scientist thing,” he mused. I didn’t answer, instead looking at the papers on the wall. Most were torn from magazines or newspapers, but one stood out. It was in crayon, depicting three children. One had a bow in their hair, another was all in blue, and the last had a yellow scarf. “Oh yeah… Roll drew that.”

“Roll? You’re still in contact with her?”

“She-She actually forgave me,” he said in lieu of a real answer. “Even after I- Light programmed her to be too soft.”

I put the drawing back up on the wall. “There’s not a bad circuit in her body.” The bed squeaked. “It’s good that you get along with at least one of your family.” 

He grunted. “Rock is… we’ve talked a couple times. Outside of battle. He’s good.”

“Do you still think he replaced you?” I asked, steeling myself to teleport if Blues were to snap. 

To my surprise- legitimate surprise- he didn’t. “I’m one of a kind,” he said slowly. “Rock and Roll are their own robots, just as I am. They’re… they’re them. I’m me.”

“So do you think you’ll-“

“I am  _ not  _ going back there,” he interjected. “I. I’m not ready to face Light yet. I haven’t- it’s complicated, Tempo.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” I said quietly, sadly. I believed it be sadness, at any rate. I certainly felt sympathy for the other bot. “I am not as familiar with Dr. Light as I am with Dr. LaLinde, but if she says he will forgive you, I trust her judgment.”

He scoffed. “You and Roll both trust too easily. It’s gotten you both hurt, and it will again.”

I shrugged. “I will take that risk. After all, I trust you,” I said without thinking. 

He looked at me, expression strange. Eventually, he laughed, but it sounded hollow. “You’re a strange one, Tempo.”

. . .

With his permission, I took his scarf home and washed it while both Dr. LaLinde and Vesper are working. 

I wondered if I should learn how to sew as well. 

. . .

He showed me some of the things he had found on his journeys. This medallion was from an archaeology site. That poster was from a defunct amusement park. “Is that where you got your scarf?” I asked. 

He tugged at the article of clothing in question. “No. It was a gift.” Blues didn’t say who it was from, but I had a suspicion. “He… gave me a lot, actually. My first pair of sunglasses. My love of music.”

“Oh, is that how you learned that song you whistle all the time?” I smiled, hoping that would ease some of the discomfort I sensed. 

He shook his head and looked out the broken window. “I made it up.”

A robot capable of composing a song… Blues had a point. He truly was something special. “Well, it’s a very nice melody,” I told him. It was; something about it was quite… melancholy. 

He grunted noncommittally. 

We lapsed into silence, only broken up by the sound of the city around us. “Why do you wear sunglasses? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I do,” he said bluntly, turning his face away. “I got my first pair because my eyes weren’t adjusted to sunlight. They weren’t sophisticated enough for that. Too humanlike.”

The way he phrased it suggested there was a reason he wore them now… but I knew pushing the topic would benefit neither of us. Instead, I watched the shadows play on cracked glass. 

. . .

Blues was a lot more lethargic lately, and it worried me. 

But I said nothing. 

. . .

“What was it like? Not… feeling anything?” Blues asked me suddenly one day. 

I knew the question was coming. Our predicaments were similar enough that his curiosity was warranted. “I’m afraid I can’t answer properly, as I felt nothing,” I answered, raising an eyebrow. 

He huffed. “Yeah, stupid question. Sorry.”

“It’s not a stupid question,” I reassured him, standing so I could sit on the foot of his bed. “I told you before than when Dr. LaLinde restored my emotions, I was angry. That anger still remains, to be honest. But it’s faded considerably. I know she only did it out of love.”

“A very twisted version of love,” he said, drawing a shape with his finger on the wall. 

I didn’t reply, even though I disagreed. I sensed doing so would anger him further. We both remained quiet until I said “it was like having a filter on.”

Blues sat up, cocking his head. “Being emotionless?”

I nodded. “I knew what reaction was appropriate, but I didn’t feel like making it. If that makes any sense.” He hummed, and I took that as the affirmative. “It can’t say if it was unpleasant or not though. It was just my existence. Although-“ I placed my hands on my knees, exhaling slowly, despite not needing to. 

“Although?” he prompted. 

“Although I am curious what existing without a function or purpose is like,” I said quickly. 

For a moment, I wondered if I had crossed a line. Eventually, he sighed. “It’s uncomfortable. I-I power on and wonder what to do. I feel like a lost puppy. I just sort of follow whatever’s going on in the city and chase after it, in hopes of finding something to do.”

“Or somebody to fight.”

He laughed, and it was real. I smiled back. 

. . .

“Tempo, if there’s anything you want to talk to me about, please do,” Dr. LaLinde said, rubbing my back. 

I tried to answer, but my throat felt tight. It wasn’t a physical affliction, but a mental barrier. 

One I need somebody to overcome. 

. . .

The next time we met, I appeared in my dress and sweater, hair down. Blues whistled. “Wow, you trust me enough to appear in civilian gear. That means a lot, Tempo.”

I shrugged. “It’s more comfortable than being in armor all the time. Although I can transform back at any time… or if I miss the pigtails.” That earned me a chuckle, but it was punctuated by a cough. “You might be more comfortable in your civies as well,” I added quickly. 

He shook his head. “Never got any. Closest was this scarf and shades…”

His sunglasses. Ever since he had explained the origins of both of his non-armor attire, I wondered why he continued to wear them. Particularly the glasses. “Are your eyes still sensitive?”

He was silent. That felt like a “yes,” but also a disagreement. “Part of it. Part of it is aesthetics. And the other part… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “I’ve been through quite a lot, Proto Man.”

A hand reached up to the glasses. “Only Light and Wily know. I’m not sure- you already think of me as-” 

“A friend.” 

He stared at me as I shifted on the bed to face him. I felt myself reaching for the glasses as well, even though I never commanded my body to do so. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I believe I was shaking. Maybe Blues was as well. “You’re my friend. Even if I am not entirely sure what friendship entails at times, what I feel for you is strong. I want to help you, just as I want to help Rock and Dr. LaLinde and Vesper and all the other Robot Masters. So please, Proto Man, let me help you as well.” 

Our hands met as the glasses lowered. One eye flickered on and off, switching between vibrant blue and green. The other stayed cyan, but was made of the same LED material. From the way his lower lip was quivering, I figured he wanted to cry. But he couldn’t, his eyes wouldn’t let him. They were too far damaged from that. “Now you get why-” 

“How bad is it? The blindness?”

“It comes and goes,” he hiccuped, rubbing at them futility. “It’s worse at night or in bright light. A-and I don’t- why bother fixing them when-” 

I made a strange noise, somewhere between a strangled laugh and a sigh. “Dr. LaLinde was right, you truly do have a ‘chivalrous martyr complex.’” I patted his cheek before squeezing his hand and moving away. “Thank you for trusting me with this.” 

Blues put the sunglasses back on and shook his head. “Just… don’t tell anybody. Maybe one day I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do, Tempo.”

My shoulders fell as he weakly lowered himself back into a resting position. “I don’t know either,” I said quietly. 

. . . 

Dr. LaLinde and Vesper were already resting for the night when I got the message. I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t afford to. 

. . . 

Blues was shaking, visibly burnt and dented from the fight. I could see sparks flickering under his sunglasses. I nearly tripped in my rush to lean down and help him. “Oh- oh no, it’s going to be OK-” 

“C-cut the bullshit,” he croaked in between coughs. “This… this is beyond an E-Tank.” 

“Did they hit your core?” I asked quickly, pulling off his helmet to check for further injuries. 

It took him a second, but eventually he said “...nicked it. It’s… you have to g-go, Tempo. I don’t know if it’s gonna-” 

“I’m not leaving you like this,” I insisted, placing a hand on his head. My Geiger counter was reading higher levels than normal, occasionally spiking up. “I don’t care what kind of damage will be done, I’m not leaving my friends behind.” 

He made a soft noise, a strange one that kept repeating. I realized he was crying, tears of sparks and leaking oil bursting through. “I don’t- I don’t want to die,” he sobbed, clinging to my arm. He fumbled to find it; I wouldn’t have been surprised if his bad eye was completely broken and dark at this point. “I-I’m not ready. I want to stay.” His pleads were desperate, heartbreaking, frightening. There was a rush of emotions, most of which I couldn’t name, even if I had the time to try. “I don’t wanna go-” 

I steeled myself and cupped his cheek. “You’re not going to. B-because if you’re admitting that you don’t want to- Blues. It’s time.” I smiled, weakly, pressing our foreheads together. “There’s only one person who can fix you, and you’re ready to face him.” 

His eyes were fading. “I… yeah. Can you-” 

I nodded silently and teleported us away. 

. . .

Dr. Light was just preparing to go to bed when he heard a knock on the door. “Who could that be?” he wondered aloud, retreating from his lab. There was an awful rainstorm tonight, not to mention the late hour. He undid the latch and opened it just enough to reveal- “Quake Woman! Dear, what’s wrong?”

“Dr. Light,” she whimpered, helping a slipping Blues back onto her shoulder. “We need your help.” 


End file.
